


A Spare Set of Keys

by DetectiveGreen



Category: POKEMON Detective Pikachu (2019)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-18 01:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19966234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveGreen/pseuds/DetectiveGreen
Summary: Harry and Hide go on a stakeout.





	A Spare Set of Keys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [defensetrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/defensetrain/gifts).



“Mm, I can't believe we got stuck with the stakeout mission at our age,” muttered Hideo, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I'm exhausted, and it isn't even midnight.” The streetlight ahead of them flickered, whining like a Nincada before settling down. The light was insufficient but they still had parked safely away from it, just in case. The street was surprisingly dead, even for a Thursday night.

“Speak for yourself, old man,” said Harry, smirking at him. “I'm eternally young and youthful. I look like I'm twenty and I have the body of a fifteen-year-old. I'm golden.” Of course, Hideo knew he was probably up late the night before, binge-watching detective movies or old animated shows. That morning he had had about five cups of coffee, which were two more than his usual breakfast. Hideo wondered if he should be more vocal about his worries over Harry’s health. His heart was going to explode if he kept abusing it like that.

“You nearly threw out your back sneezing three days ago, and yesterday I saw you looking online for orthopedic shoes.” Harry snorted and shovelled more junk food in his mouth, crunching loudly just to annoy his passenger.

“Those were for my great-aunt Linda. You know her. She has sad old arthritic knees, just like you.” Harry grinned as Hideo gave him a gentle shove and stole the bag of chocolate-covered almonds. He popped a couple in his mouth. He wasn’t a fan of sweets, certainly not as much as Harry, but the sugar was definitely helping. And Harry had been considerate and bought dark chocolate, so they weren’t unpleasant.

“I don't have a good feeling about this one,” said Hideo, politely waiting until he had finished eating to speak unlike Harry. He looked out the windshield and shook his head. “He's not gonna come out tonight.”

“Oh, are we betting now?”

“No, I'm just being bitter; he won't come out because we're here.”

Time passed slowly, and the two sat mostly in silence, letting the weight of the day sit on their shoulders. Feeling a small surge of energy, Harry moved in his seat, shifting and trying to properly wake up. The air felt different, and he was sure that he could see the glimmer of a sunrise, but when Harry checked the clock, it blinked 2:00AM at him apathetically. Groaning, he hunched over, looking defeated.

“You can come to my apartment later,” Harry mumbled, bleary-eyed, as he leaned heavily against the wheel. “You'll want a shower after this and I don't have the energy to be a taxi.”

Hideo eyed him. “You know, you offer that about once a month now.”

“Yeah cause we go on intense or time-consuming investigations together. You know driving for a long time makes me cranky.”

“Why don't you just give me a spare set of keys?” ventured Hideo, his body angled toward the road but his eyes glancing to the younger man.

A small silence followed, without even a car horn to interrupt it. Achingly quiet. Hideo wondered if he was breathing.

“Oh shit,” said Harry, perking up in his seat, “I never even thought of that!”

* * *

Hideo was right, to their discontent. No activity whatsoever. They were allowed to head home, and another team took their place, and Harry, true to his word, drove straight to his apartment. Hideo realized that he had never even said he would go; Harry just naturally presumed. Of course, he had presumed correctly. Hideo was not feeling up to being carted back to his place and being on-call alone in his apartment without anything being resolved.

Of course, he meant the case.

Harry looked over at him, grinning. His skin looked oily, his hair – freckled with salt and pepper strands – was tousled, and there were already quite alarming bags under his eyes. “You look terrible,” he said laughingly, his voice sparkling with weary delight. “Come on, you sad sack, let’s get you inside.”

“Harry, your car…” started Hideo, looking around them and at the back seat, which was littered with candy wrappers, paper cups, and plastic bags. Harry shook his head weakly, frowning.

“Too late,” he muttered. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

“It _is_ tomorrow.”

“When we wake up tomorrow.”

“Do you have a spare bed?”

“We’ll work something out. Quit stalling.” Harry slapped the car gently. “Come on, come on. I can barely keep my eyes open and we still need to shower come _on_.”

Hideo rolled his eyes and shuffled out of the car, his joints complaining in burning throbs as he followed his partner. And of _course_ there were stairs. Hideo sighed meaningfully, glaring at Harry, who laughed and led him towards his apartment.

“Come on, old man,” teased Harry, pulling Hideo by his wrist. His fingers were surprisingly smooth and warm. Hideo wondered if he took good care of his skin or if he was just blessed with good genes. Probably the latter. “Let’s get you into something more comfortable.”


End file.
